


Fragile Future

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8515789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: Gotham!verse Bruce and Selina oneshots.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this headcanon (http://spiderlassie.tumblr.com/post/152900650130/honestly-my-favorite-thing-about-baby-batcat): 
> 
> Honestly, my favorite thing about Baby BatCat isn’t how adorable it is.
> 
> It’s that there is absolutely NO WAY Gothamverse!Batman and Catwoman won’t use embarrassing childhood secrets against each other in combat.

Catwoman landed a square punch to one of Scarecrow’s goon’s jaw. He ricocheted into the alleyway wall. The thud resounding. She smirked and leaned down, picking up the jewel that was hiding in his pocket. A trinket she had seen on auction last week that she had been dying to get her hands on, but Scarecrow had gotten there first. No doubt trying to sell it off to fund whatever lunatic scheme he had up his sleeve. Gotham had always been crazy but ever since the Batman had shown up the criminals in this town had gone from organized crime to chaos. 

The cat wanted a piece of the action with none of the strings.

Her ears perked up to the sound of heavy boots approaching her from behind, trying to sneak up on her. Speaking of strings...

“Batman,” Catwoman rolled her eyes, turning around to face the cowl, “You move quiet.”

His mouth imperceptibly quirked up in amusement, “You too.”

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” she quipped, “figured you’d still be at your castle in Italy.”

“It’s a chalet.” There was a significant pause, “In Switzerland. You do that on purpose.” She shrugged. The soft smile her had for her transformed into a straight line. He was serious business Batman now. How utterly boring. “I was following Crane. I have to return that jewel.” He gestured to her hand.

“Oh, this jewel?” she grinned wolfish, “Nah.” Catwoman pocketed the gem, “Not tonight, Bat.”

“Cat,” he took a step toward her, “That doesn’t belong to you.”

Passively, she waved her hand, “I’m working, B.”

“Stealing.”

“Same thing.”

Batman let out a heavy breath, already exhausted with her. His body language shouldn’t have excited her but she was practically giddy now. Messing with Batman and the man behind the mask was a second profession to the thief. “Don’t make me take it from you.”

She drew her claws like a switch blade, sharp and shinning and dangerous, “Pfft, you can try.” Batman lunged at her. Catwoman side stepped him and slapped him upside the head. Her laugh echoed into the cold December air. “Harder than that, B.”

He spun around on his heels, his fighting stance as rigid and practiced and controlled as he had always been. A fist flew her way again and she ducked. Another came her way and she avoided it. As it went on, each blow perfectly avoided (she was offended, he didn’t seem to be trying very hard at all...she wasn’t glass), Catwoman grew tired of the silence. “You know,” she ducked under his arm and tried to sweep his legs out from under him which he narrowly avoided, “all of that underwater pool training and boxing has done wonders for you, Batman.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. 

“Endurance training. I’ve told you a hundred times. Holding my breath under water is for endurance.”

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You never pay attention,” he growled, trying to restrain her. Catwoman ducked under his arm and slid on the ground into a crouching potion. 

Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. “I do so pay attention.”

“Name one time,” he smirked, his mouth so smug and horrible the Cat wanted to smack it off him. Or maybe do something else. They were complicated.

“Silver.” It was her turn to be smug.

Batman’s shoulders sagged and he audibly sighed, “How many times are you going to bring up Silver. I was fourteen.”

“Yeah, and? I was right.” A memory flickered in her mind of blond hair and an sugar sweet smile. Catwoman’s blood boiled and she sprung at him.

Batman stumbled backward and blocked each of her oncoming attacks. She knew she was being ridiculous, they were just kids then, but she didn’t have to be rational about any of Batman’s stupid party girl morons. They were all dumb. And so was he.

She jabbed at his face and she felt the switch, when Batman had endured enough. He grabbed her arm and yanked her into his chest. They were standing a breath apart now. She hissed at him like a feral cat.

He could only smile, “Down kitty.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” she rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t suit you.”

Batman leaned in and brushed his nose sweetly against hers, “It’s good to see you, Catwoman.”

She brushed her mouth against his, less than a kiss, “Too easy. Got you wrapped around my finger.”

“Always have,” he replied, knowingly. He kissed her properly this time. Sweeping her up in his arms like he had done a hundred times before. She indulged him but only for a moment. 

Breathless, she managed to pull away, “Woah there, Batman. I’m a married woman.”

He smiled at her familiar and boyish, “I heard your husband was out of town.”

“He gets back in tonight. He had some business in Italy,” she untangled herself from his arms. She saw his arms fall lamely to his sides, his hands itching for more of her.

Batman rolled his eyes, “Switzerland.”

“Same thing.” She ran to the roof’s ledge and turned around to face the Bat. 

“Selina,” Bruce spoke patiently, “We’re going to talk about that jewel when we get home. It’s going back to the museum.”

“If you want it so bad...” Selina Kyle smiled at her husband, “...you’re gonna have to catch me.”

And she leapt off the roof. Expecting him to chase her. And he always did.


	2. Familiar Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome escapes Gotham and takes an old friend with him. A young Batman hunts them down and finds sometimes you can't leave the past behind. It always comes back to haunt you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am obsessed with the fan theory that Harley Quinn on Gotham is going to be Silver. She's a little on the younger side than what I would like but I detest the idea of Barbara or Lee playing Harley. And Silver has that look. I'm about it.

Bruce curled into the warm body that was taking up two thirds of his bed. It was barley nine in the morning and he and the bed stealer had spent the better part of last night awake thoroughly preoccupied. And not in the way that the twenty-seven year old billionaire would have preferred to spend his evening with his bed fellow. 

The Penguin and Riddler's long lived feud had turned into a blood bath. The pair of them had littered the city's streets with bodies aimed to wound the other. Bruce knew Nygma and Cobblepot had one time been friend, allies but those days were gone. All that was left of the old mayor and chief advisor's friendship was a bitter blood feud. Neither could let the city rest if they were free from Arkham. Bruce enlisted his powerful friend, the Batman, to rectify the situation.

And so, on his anniversary he and Selina spent the night chasing down bad guys. Or, to be more specific, Bruce spent the night chasing down bad guys while Selina robbed the Penguin and the Riddler blind. She took advantage of Bruce's preoccupied state. He couldn't chase down Catwoman and the Riddler and the Penguin all at once. He would have to choose and she knew where his allegiance would always lie. Ever the opportunist, his girlfriend. 

He nuzzled his nose into her curly hair and she purred. The sound made him smile and he burrowed into her hair more. With a stretch, Selina snuggled closer into Bruce's arms. "I'm running on three hours of sleep tops, Bruce. Let me sleep."

"I'm not trying to wake you," his voice reverberated against her spine. "Just getting comfortable. You did land a pretty square kick to my chest last night. It's hard trying to find the right way to sleep."

Selina rolled over in his arms and pressed his nose against his chest, "You snuck up on me, B. That's on you."

With her laying in his arms like this he got to admire her features. Her wide set eyes, her dainty nose and the small splattering of freckles that she sometimes got in the summer months. The face of a thief. The face of his girlfriend. There would never be a list of words long enough to describe the relationship he and Selina had. That was half the terror and joy of having her in his life. 

He felt a rush of emotion toward her, then. Bruce dipped his head down to kiss her sleepy lips. She made a noise of discontent at being disturbed from her sleep once more but she did not stop him. Instead, she curled around him and kissed him more squarely. 

They continued to indulge in early morning, lazy kisses until Bruce heard an alarm from his night stand. Selina fell back against the bed and loudly groaned, "Seriously."

He sheepishly smiled at her, his grin all apologies, "Sorry. It's the cave."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Selina waved him off. "Go on, Batman. You've gotta save a city or something."

"Selina," Bruce's face fell, he placed a pleading kiss to her shoulder, "I'll be back soon." There was a question in his voice. He was never sure when she would be stay or when she would go. Selina came and went as she pleased, that much he had always known. He never asked her outright to stay but it was always in the softness of his tone when he spoke to her or the way he kissed her goodbye. A plea to wait for him. Sometimes she listened, most times she was gone by the time he got back. The woman he chose was a dangerous and illusive one. 

She rolled her bare shoulders as she sat up, "I gotta bounce, Mister Wayne."

Bruce sighed. Today was one of those days. Fine. He didn't have much time to convince her to stay. The alarm was still blaring in the background.

With one perfunctory kiss that Selina returned lackluster, Bruce reached for his shorts and rushed off the to Bat Cave. 

When he arrived, dressed in his suit save the cowl, Alfred was already sitting at the computer. His Butler sniffed the steam from his cup of tea and nodded to Bruce, "Out again so soon, Master Bruce?"

Bruce cracked his neck and suppressed a yawn, "Why the alarm, Alfred?"

"Yes, well," Alfred drawled, "Good morning to you as well, sir."

"Alfred," Bruce's voice was sharper.

"The Joker." Those two words had Bruce wishing he could crawl back into his bed with Selina. He never welcomed meeting with the Joker. He remembered a boy once, with a face stitched on like fabric. He remembered when a laugh was just a laugh and a not a rally cry for chaos. He remembered the insanity of Jerome that had turned and shifted into the horror of the Joker. That laugh haunted his nightmares. Only Selina could coax him out of those nights.

Bruce let out a shuttered sigh, "What happened?"

"Someone on the staff at Arkham let him and a few of his men out." Alfred hesitated, "They've killed Captain Bullock. The GCPD tried to apprehend them just outside of Arkham." Bruce let the full weight of Harvey Bullock's death course through him. He had been a staple of the police since Bruce was a child. He remembered the night his parents had been murdered. Bullock had been there like the shadow of Jim Gordon. He could not imagine one without the other. Bruce could hardly imagine how Jim was feeling now.

"Where are they now?" Bruce said, pulling the cowl over his eyes and walking toward his car of choice: the crawler.

"Heading downtown, sir."

The roof of the car slid down over Batman's head and with one click he was off.

The sirens were already sounding as his crawler swept down under the bridges of Gotham City. The streets were mercifully empty and the Batman shot toward Arkham Asylum. Gruffly, he asked, "Aflred, Joker's position. Where is he?"

"Hold on, Master Bruce," Alfred's voice filtered into Bruce's ear. The sound of tapping keys from inside the Bat Cave clicked. "Ah, yes." There was a pause, "He's down on Sheridan Ave. Between the Opera House and train station."

Batman snapped his wheel in the direction of Downtown. The streets were glittering with daylight. Batman loathed when he had to do his detective work in the middle of the day. The Joker would see him coming without a doubt. He wondered lamely if that had been the plan all along. Behind the cowl, he suppressed a yawn. He was still exhausted from the night before. He cursed the timing. 

At the end of the road he could see a tuft of sickly green hair hanging from the marquee of the Opera House, a gun snugly fit in Joker's hand. The Batman set his jaw and prepared himself to launch himself from the crawler. "Alfred," he checked in to the communication system, "I'm signing off."

"I'll be on standby, Master Bruce. Commissioner Gordon is on his way."

The roof of the car flung open and the Bat threw himself from the driver's seat. He landed, cape and all, on the sidewalk. The car parked just behind him. 

As he stood slowly, he was met with applause and a few celebratory gun shots.

"Now," the scratchy, gleeful voice of the Joker sounded, "that, folks, is an entrance. 9/10, Batsy."

Batman blinked, unmoved. His eyes scanned his surrounding taking count of the accomplices. By his count there were fifteen clowns and two bystanders that had joined in with the madness. That was the Joker's effect. For years the GCPD, Batman had been unable to stamp out the effect of the Joker. He caught on and on and on like a bad joke. There was freedom in his abandon and his choas, Bruce knew the allure of it himself. He had rules for a reason. Rules he could not and would not ever cross.

He took a curious step toward the marquee and a bullet hit the ground right in front of his feet. Batman tilted his chin up toward the sun and the Joker. "Not so fast, Bats. We're celebrating."

"There's nothing I'd want to celebrate with you, Joker."

The Joker tsked and climbed down from the marquee. He walked past a few of his henchman, swiftly shooting one in the kneecap for the joy of it, and stopped several feet from Batman. He began to figure how fast it would take from him to incapacitate his band of misfits and the Joker himself when a figure he had not seen joined the crowd.

He would know that face, that figure, anywhere. Even though it had been years since he had seen her Silver St. Cloud was not someone Bruce was likely to forget ever.

And there she stood. Next to the Joker.

Her perfectly styled blonde-hair was ratty and worn and pulled back into two separate pigtails. Each ponytail had the tips colored: one red and one blue. 

She looked so much the same and yet so unmistakably different.

"Silver," Bruce sputtered out before he could stop himself.

The shadow of Silver St. Cloud tilted her head at the sound of her name. Her eyebrows knit in confusion, as if she had not heard that name in so long, as if it had been lost to her.

"I see," The Joker's voice cracked like a broken record, "You've met the misses. Say hello, Harley."

Whatever part of this phantom from his past was still Silver St. Cloud sputtered out like a broken light. In an instant she was all twisted smiles and giggles that sounded menacing, "Pleasure to meet you, Mister Batman, sir."

"Silver," the man behind the Batman tried to reach her once more, "Silver, what has he done to you?"

"Ah, ah, ah," The Joker chastised Bruce. He did not dare look away from Silver, the years slipping away as he remembered she that had once been his friend. "She's gold, Bats. None of that Silver nonsense. Isn't that right, baby?"

Silver, Harley, whoever she was now, smacked a kiss on the Joker's face and Bruce tried not to wince, "That's right, puddin'."

Batman shook off his initial confusion, the dumbfounded feeling he was carrying around, and snapped, "Silver St. Cloud. Her name is Silver St. Cloud, Joker."

The Joker rolled his neck in boredom and pushed Silver away from him. She stumbled back into his crowd of henchmen. "Dr. Cloud isn't in right now. Can I take a message?" His goons all shared a collective laugh. Bruce's fist tightened. "Why you care so much, Bats? She your shrink, too?"

Harley stepped forward and puffed her chest out in defiance, "I ain't never treated the Batman. Only the folks at Arkham. Like you, Mister J."

A doctor. A therapist. At Arkham. Bruce could have thrown up. After all this years, after she had escaped Gotham to live a better life somewhere, anywhere, she had ended up back in Gotham's clutches. As a doctor she could have gone anywhere and yet she chose here. She chose that place. Her Aunt Tabitha was a resident at Arkham, Bruce idly wondered if she had taken the post to reconnect with her family, but he did not get to think long. 

Silver St. Cloud or Harley Quinn charged him. Batman side stepped her but what he did not anticipate was her bat connecting with the back of his head. He stumbled forward and the Joker laughed loudly, almost wheezing. 

She giggled, "Oops. Sorry, mister."

He spun around and crouched in a defensive position. The sun shining did nothing to make him feel in control of his body. He could not depend on surprising her like this, all of his motions were exposed. He drew two batons to counter her bat. 

They ran at each other with a mixture of anger and elation. Bruce was the anger, Harley knew no emotion but true, unbridled joy. It only served to urge his anger forward. She rang her bat over her head toward him and Batman dodged her. His baton caught her back and she fell forward with a pout. She turned the Joker, complaining, "He's hitting ladies, Mister J. That ain't nice."

"No," The Joker drew his gun, "That's not very nice, Harley." Batman came face to barrel with the Joker's gun. Even from a distance he could see that the bullet would meet its mark. He lifted his cape to deflect the bullets as Joker unloaded them. The prince of clowns walked toward Batman firing a shot with each step. Batman held his cape firm, keeping a majority of the pressure of each hit on the bullet-proof fabric.

He did not peak, did not dare look until he heard an exhausted yell from the Joker. The mad man tossed the empty gun away and threw himself at the Batman with his teeth.

Bruce prepare for impact.

It never came.

He heard the crack of a whip and looked toward the sun where Catwoman was standing perched on the marquee. She looked as tired as Bruce felt and three times as annoyed. Her whip was wrapped tightly around the Joker's arm. "Really?" she said, her voice dripping with irritation, "I got out of bed for this? A glorified cat fight?"

"Catwoman! How fun. We should double date. Right, Harley?"

"Sounds good, Mister J," Harley Quinn quipped. Bruce's felt his head pound. That voice was so familiar and yet utterly foreign to him now. He chanced a look at Selina and saw her register the same horrible realization. This woman had once been Harley Quinn. But instead of sympathy, instead of agony for her, Selina's lips curled up in a smile.

"Hey bitch," Selina yanked on her whip, pulling the Joker flat on his back, "Remember me?"

"Catwoman!" Batman said warningly, "Don't."

She cracked her whip in Bruce's direction sending him back off his feet, "Stay out of this, Batman. Let the women talk."

Something registered in Harley's eyes. A memory, however fractured, seemed to come to mind. She howled in delight, "Gutter trash, is that you?"

"Two faced bitch, is that you?" Selina snapped back. Bruce composed himself. It took all of his energy to not step between the two women. Keeping them apart would be futile, though. His girlfriend was not the kind of person that could be stopped when she was on a war path.

Harley swung her bat casually through the air, the brunt of it connecting with one of the Joker's goons heads. Blood splattered on her jumpsuit making her look even more menacing. As the minutes ticketed on all traces of Silver St. Cloud melted into a new being: Harley Quinn. "Gutter trash," she started again, practically singing, "You stayed short."

Selina cracked her whip at Harley's ankles, "Two faced bitch, you stayed ugly."

"Ouch." She fired a gun off at Selina. "Not nice."

Selina dodged it, "I didn't realize either of us were."

The Joker howled with laughter, "What do you say, Batman? Throw some pudding on them and let them go at it."

Selina's whip connected with the Joker's temple, knocking him out cold. Her eyes were zeroed in on Harley, "You with that now? What a mess."

Harley showed her teeth, "Mister J is a wonderful, loving man. He treats me real good, gutter trash." She tossed her bat at her in a fit of rage.

Selina grinned, obviously thrilled to have gotten the best of her. "Catwoman will do, babe."

Bruce found whatever strength he could, brushing aside who Harley Quinn used to be, and punched her temple with enough force to knock her out. She collapsed like a rag doll and Bruce had to look away. Selina strode over to him, her hands on her hips in fury, "I had that under control, Batman."

"She's sick," his voice graveled, "Silver needs help, not to get in some age old cat fight with you."

Selina's eyebrow rose in mock anger, "You think that was about you?"

Bruce locked Harley and Joker together with a pair of handcuffs. He could hear the sirens growing closer. Units would be there soon to collect these two and hopefully get Silver the help she so desperately needed. "Selina, please," Bruce said patiently. She scoffed, wrapped her whip around her waist like a belt, and began to climb the nearest fire escape. Bruce's eyes followed her every move, "Where are you going?" He called after her, "Home is the other way."

"Oh, you think I'm going home with you?" She laughed, "You're even crazier than she is."

Bruce sighed and crossed to the crawler. As he settled inside his car he took a moment to calm down, to find his breath. Alfred's voice dinged in his ear, "I, uh, see Miss Kyle found you, Master Wayne."

"Yes, she did."

"Coming home alone, then?"

"She'll cool down."

"Of course she will, sir."

"She'll cool down, Alfred. She will."

".......I'll make some tea."

Bruce turned the crawler on and looked in the distance where Selina once stood. The sun was bright and he was only sure of one thing, he was in the dog house.


End file.
